2024-25 ARTIST-IN-RESIDENCE: David Duer

David Duer is a poet and memoirist who has lived in the Iowa City area since 1975. He recently retired from teaching English language arts at Cedar Rapids Washington High School, where he served as the advisor for the Washington Literary Press. He is an art docent at the Stanley Museum of Art and the Cedar Rapids Museum of Art, a member of the Iowa City Poetry Advisory Board, and a part-time teacher at Scattergood Friends School. His short memoir pieces can be found online at From Now On (davidduerblog.com). 

The Sacraments

by David Duer and read on Sunday, October 13, 2024 at Faith UCC

The sacrament of eating the heels of loaves

The sacrament of the person oblivious to their beauty

The sacrament of floral print boxers breezily waving from a line

The sacrament of rooting for the long shot, the underdog, the dark horse

The sacrament of the chance tryst, the accidental kiss

The sacrament of falling asleep, serenaded by a dishwasher

The sacrament of the most wholly immersion of skinnydipping

The sacrament of the moment when pawpaw trees give up their sweet custardy fruit

The sacrament of raising our hands & whirling

The sacrament of choking up every time we read that certain passage to the class

The sacrament of the woman returning to apologize for being short with us

The sacrament of the halogen glow above a ballgame in the small town prairie night

The sacrament of catching our wave & riding the perfect parabola of its curl

The sacrament of the bushy red ponytail of a woman speaking Chinese & drinking a cortado

The sacrament of giving the house wrens a wide berth

The sacrament of untethered laughter

The sacrament of lingering where paths have been crossed

The sacrament of sunsets, crescent moon appliquéd to a denim blue sky with a rosy fringe

The sacrament of counting the seconds between the lightning & the thunder

The sacrament of a young girl lost in her thoughts, smiling, unveiling her private joy

The sacrament of sleeping in the stone shadow of a ruined castle

The sacrament of the two-fingered wave, hand on the steering wheel

Neighbors passing on a gravel road, tenderly touching the core of their animal hearts

Driving toward their arrival, drinking in each other’s dust

Archive of works from 2023-2024 Artist-In-residence Kai Kiser




Archive of works from 2022-2023 Artist-In-residence brigid martin

Archive of works from 2022-2023 Artist-In-residence brigid martin

Archive of works from 2022-2023 Artist-In-residence brigid martin

In Hands

By Brigid Martin - Shared at Faith UCC on February 12, 2023

"In Hands"

You and I, we march;
We are marching together
Hand in hand in hand.

You and I, we sleep;
On rocky ground, on storm-swept
Shores that soak us through.

You and I, we talk;
We speak of skies and sunsets
When they weren't covered.

You and I, we yell;
We stand on the mountain's peak
Cupped hands, voices fly.

You and I, we spread;
Our joy as wide as we can
Hoping others know.

You and I, we kneel;
In the dust, the dust and ash
We stay, heads bowed low.

You and I, we quake;
At the world's state, as the floods
Sweep away houses.

You and I, we dance;
Spin in the rain and let drops
Live on our tongues.

You and I, we sing;
Choruses with no verses
Songs without rhythm.

You and I, we think;
About all that there has been
And all that will be.

You and I, we sit;
We sit in calm in the gardens
On the final night.

You and I, we fight;
I slept too long and you stayed
Awake the whole night.

You and I, we cry;
Cry for the past we have lost
The future unknown.

You and I, we seek;
Eyes locked through a throng of souls
Holding all our breath.

You and I, we stay;
I'll keep you in my cupped palms
Since your hands can't hold.

You and I, we stop;
You involuntarily
And I from the fear.

You and I, we break;
There's no world we can stay in
No place we're the same.

You and I, we part;
We separate until it's
Just you. And just I.


Impermanence

by Brigid Martin, Faith UCC Artist-in-Residence

When Rome fell,
do you think the people standing inside—
and not the normal people, not the ones who had created and worked livelihoods for years, years
not the ones who looked out from their doorways at dusk and shivered at the sound of the wind—
do you think, though, that the other people, the ones who hadn’t listened to the winds and hadn’t seen
the signs
Do you think they were surprised?
And of course it didn’t happen quickly, nothing ever does,
Rome burned a slow, agonizing collapse and even then she never really extinguished,
but do you think those people were surprised?
Shocked by an event they should have seen coming?

I think that’s where we are, you know?
Standing shocked, shook silent and still
by something we should have seen coming.
some of us did
or at least one of us
way back

I mean, there’s been an instruction manual for how to handle all of this
how to handle it, and it’s been ours forever
since before we even knew enough to care.

But as to the one of us
John
there are many Johns, many people with the same name that stomp through the sheeves of history
but this one was John.

and that’s it. there were no other specific titles attached to that one that show us who this John was,
what made him special, why he wrote this and how it got tangled up with everything else
some people think that he was there before that he wrote more of it

I don’t know if I like that version best or if I like the idea that he had one chance, one purpose
and that he knew it might not be his for long
because that’s brave. that’s something courageous. you know?
not holding on to something because it needs to become its own.

John.
That’s the way history remembers him
so that’s the way we will too

but anyway, John, he had a vision
a dream
a notion
(prophecy seems so mystical but maybe that’s
what we needed
what we need)
and he met God.
Whoa, God!

Okay, when you see something in italics, you’ve got to say it out loud.
We’re turning this into a call and response
I don’t care if you’re reading this on your own
If you see italics, you’ve got to say it out loud.
That’s how you know you aren’t alone out here
even if your voice is the only company you have
because being alone in these times is far worse than breaking the silence, just for a moment.
Here, we’ll practice.

Amen.

There. See? That was easy.
Anyway. Back to John. And God.

Whoa, God!

There you go.

John found God—hey what’s up God?—and God said
Hey you’ve got to tell the churches some stuff.
There are things that are going to happen. Don’t be scared
and John probably said, “No, I’m pretty scared, actually. This vision is weird.”
Because there were like. Beasts. And stuff.
And all the angels looked really freaky
but he got through it.

 

the angels and stuff aren’t even the most important part
the events aren’t even the most important part
what is the most important part?

 

The most important part is that change would happen.

God said, don’t be afraid.
And even if John was, he still stuck around
He still watched it, through to the end.
and then he came back and told us
change would happen
and nothing would be the same.

 

If we could see the future
If we could see what everything will come to
I don’t know if I would be brave enough to share it.
I don’t know if I’d be brave enough to recognize it
for what it was.

 

People speculate that the Book of Revelation could be a foretelling of the fall of the Roman Empire.
Do you think the Romans, the people inside, had read it already?
Do you think they looked at the beasts and recognized them?
Do you think they looked at the beasts and recognized

themselves?

          (yeah you were supposed to read that too)

themselves.

They might have been afraid, when they recognized the beasts
They might have wanted to change back
Maybe it wasn’t too late
Maybe some of them did
But maybe some of them forgot that beasts and humans are supposed to be separate
But then the people on the outside.
the ones that were building their livelihoods
the ones that had been disposed from their homes
the ones that were suffering under Roman rule
do you think they saw that as the end?
The Revelation?
Do you think that when they saw the beginnings of something tumbling,
a tower cracking at the foundations,

Do you think they were afraid?

Because I don’t.
I don’t think that was their apocalypse
their Revelation.
I think for them
that must have been
a beginning.


“Lowest Boiling Point”

Written and performed

by Brigid Martin on 10/9/22

Faith UCC Artist-In-Residence

ARTIST-IN-RESIDENCE

2022-2023

Here at Faith UCC, we are always looking for new ways to enrich our Sunday morning gatherings while also still reaching out to the larger Iowa City community. Living in Iowa City, we are surrounded by a vibrant arts community. Musicians, singer-song writers, poets, writers, and visual artists make up so much of the fabric of life in Iowa City. The Artist-In-Residence program at Faith UCC seeks to lift-up that artistic energy while at the same time enriching our collective spiritual life as a church.

Every second Sunday of the month, the Artist-In-Residence will share an artistic creation as a part of our regular Sunday service. In addition, the church will host two larger events with the Artist-In-Residence. The Residency includes a small stipend.

Our Artist-In-Residence for 2022-2023 (October – May) is Brigid Martin. Brigid is a graduate of the University of Iowa's undergraduate creative writing program. She has written and produced over twelve stage plays and published a number of shorter works of fiction. Her future goal is to get her MFA in Korean Musical Theatre. She is very excited to begin this journey with Faith UCC! 

Applications for the 2023-2024 Artist-In-Residence will be available in the Spring of 2023.

Brigid Martin, 2022-2023 Faith UCC Artist-In-Residence